Maintaining the Magic


What a morning. And as I write – it’s only 9:31a.m.

Yesterday Ellen lost one of her top front teeth. Her top left to be specific.

Some background to what’s to follow: When Ellen lost her first tooth last year, she kept talking about her friend from school who had lost a tooth and had been given a glass swan by the tooth fairy. We gave her a super sparkly necklace which she was pleased with but I could tell she was expecting something else.

When she lost the second tooth, Uncle Nick cut out a tiny swan from paper and we placed it under her pillow with a coin (£1 for the record). That was a bit of a mystery to her but she was pleased with the visit none the less.

At Christmas, we went on a family day out to Alum Bay Glass here on the Isle of Wight. Lo and behold, there was a glass swan on the shelf. We bought it sure that we’d be able to deliver it in the middle of the night to a pillow near us very soon.

5 months later…

The tooth that has been wobbling for a ridiculous amount of time finally made it’s grand exit. I set reminders to place the swan under the pillow and was keeping everything crossed that it was still in one piece inside all of that packaging following our recent house move.

This morning – 6am and bright as a button, Ellen came through to my room. I asked if anyone had been and she said that she hadn’t looked yet as she wanted me to come through with her. We retrieved the package and opened it in my room. She was thrilled.

Finally. The tooth fairy had delivered.

So pleased with it was she, that (despite my telling her repeatedly it wasn’t a toy and that she should put it on a shelf somewhere special) she carried it down to breakfast. Carefully wrapped back in its tissue paper she laid it out on the breakfast table to admire over her cereal.

Next stop was the hallway. Again, carefully wrapped and carried through…. and then… :(




Hers (and mine).

The magical gift from afar had slipped from it’s wrapping onto a tiled flooring and the head was in an opposite corner to the beautiful body.

I can’t describe this feeling. Ellen was devastated. It hadn’t even lasted a full hour.

I felt silly for getting tearful – but I just felt so terrible for her. She truly believes in the magic and this morning she felt like the magic had been broken.

Panic stations

Immediately I wanted to fix this for her. I sat at the dining table while she went to her room to collect herself. And I cried for her.

I messaged my gorgeous friend in Hawaii and imparted my despair. She quickly delivered a suggestion of maybe something in the post that could replace the broken swan in a less risky fashion:


Perfect. Agreed?

This swan will be safely tucked away behind glass and on the wall.

Ellen wrote a letter to the tooth fairy before school and all balance seemed to be restored.


The magic

So, I’m writing a letter to replace Ellen’s letter with tonight from the tooth fairy herself.

It feels like a huge responsibility and moral dilemma right now.

  • Do I replace the swan and make out the fairies are real and watching?
  • Does that teach her that she doesn’t need to look after her things?
  • Does giving her the picture a week later make a bigger deal out of this than necessary?

This has felt like a process and then some this morning and I’m exhausted. The silver lining is that it has finally kick started me to write on my personal blog again.

All is not lost.


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